


Such Great Heights

by Keyshiano



Series: Teen Wolf Prompts [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Caretaking, Carrier Stiles, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, New York, Poor Derek Hale, Poor Stiles Stilinski, Pregnant Stiles, Prompt Fill, Sex, Sweet, Unplanned Pregnancy, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:05:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9839939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keyshiano/pseuds/Keyshiano
Summary: Imagine your OTP is living in a cheap studio apartment, struggling to get by, and then person A finds out they're pregnant...Inspired by user moroo1234's fic, "Promise me." Check it outhere!





	

At least the stars in the inky black sky were beautiful enough to make up for the dullness of the low-end apartment Derek and Stiles shared. Stiles was looking at their sparkle while waiting for Derek to get home from his second job. For Stiles, being a student at Columbia University, proved to be harder than anticipated. He was nowhere he should've been in terms of keeping up with the rest of the class. Studying for law required payment of many books, DVDs and other equipment just for one use in class. He and Derek were surviving off of a ramen-noodle-and-Kool-Aid diet. Well, just Kool Aid for Stiles; Derek preferred water. Stiles was lucky to have got into CU. Being a carrier definitely helped with the acceptance, as many universities were trying to become more diverse by including carriers into their student roll. In daily life, Stiles suffered from the verbal abuse of classmates and random strangers on the street. How they knew, he didn’t know. But, they knew. Sometimes, he was told he had a “smell” to him. There were few “carriers,” as the males who were able to conceive, birth and nurse their own biological children were called. Stiles never really had understood what it meant to be a carrier—all he knew was that he was a special boy. There were a small amount of people like him in the world, let alone the United States, but more and more studies were appearing for people like him daily.  


He and Derek moved to New York after Stiles got accepted. Derek figured that he needed to return home anyway. It was heartbreaking, saying goodbye to all of their family and friends in Beacon Hills, yet refreshing knowing that they would be together in a giant city. Scott and Stiles had shed a few tears together, but they both knew it was for the best. The sheriff, of course, had given Stiles and Derek a stern talking to in the living room of the Stilinski home. He’d told them about saving, budgeting, making sure to know their surroundings and not throw wild house parties. With Stiles majoring in Law Enforcement, it was really all talk. Stiles suspected it was his father’s way of making their stay a bit longer.

  
Of course, they didn’t budget well and weren’t receiving enough money to save up. Derek did a few online community college sessions, but had to stop. They had to sell their laptop in order to pay for bills. Stiles and Derek went without lighting for a long while, and even had to resort to taking care of their hygiene together at the local gym. Many times at night, they’d be cold. Bundling together for warmth during a harsh winter night in New York could only do so much. A lot of times, Stiles would get teary-eyed when talking about their future, and if things would work out between them. At least once a week, Stiles would ask Derek if he should defer, or even drop out of college as a whole. Derek worked as a personal trainer when he wasn’t working on irreparable vehicles. Neither jobs brought in enough. The cycle was continuous: Do well on bills, (maybe even be ahead a few times), do horrible on bills (be extremely behind on bills), get water, heating and lights shut off, Stiles crying to the landlord and the landlord making disgusting, inappropriate remarks towards Stiles to suggest ways of getting bills paid, and the landlord threatening to kick Derek out for assault.  


Rinse, wash and repeat.  


So, Stiles was waiting. Many times, Derek would show up late, maybe even past midnight. Stiles would be asleep by then, but tonight was special. Across the streets and into the shopping centers were decorations for Valentine’s Day. Neon hearts of every shape and color littered light poles and mannequins at store-fronts. Artists, who drew things such as caricatures, were holding discounts for people who wanted to surprise their loved ones. Stiles and Derek never did anything remarkable or fancy. In fact, they hardly went outside, even during New Year’s Eve. Too dangerous to be poor and walk on the streets of such a city during those times. Stiles enjoyed listening, though, and the kissed when the clock struck midnight.  


Stiles sighed, running his nimble fingers through his bangs. Derek told him that he’d be home early tonight. It was a Tuesday, one of Derek’s busier nights, but he told Stiles that he got someone to cover for him. His friend, Vernon Boyd, knew of their situation and often tried to help out as much as he could. He knew the struggle of arriving in New York and living off of dirt and watery mud. Stiles had skipped out on studying at the public library to buy some dollar candy for Derek. He knew he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t do nothing. He was also dressed nicely, in one of Derek’s favorite outfits for him: A silky, royal blue and white colored night gown accented with flattering frills at the sides. It clung to Stiles’s curves well. He only dressed like this for Derek, afraid that he’d be judged even more for expressing himself in such a way in public.  


Stiles moved from the window and winced as he took his elbows from the ledge. He looked at them. They were red and dry, and had tiny imprints on them. He slid his feet on the scratchy, stained carpet, left and right in front of him, walking to the living room, which, in reality, only took a few steps. The couch was covered in a plastic layer for whatever reason. They’d already mastered how to multitask eating ramen and moving around the house to get work done. The only mess they made on that couch was when having sex, which hardly happened anymore. The light of a dim lamp made the tears on Stiles’s face evident, and he buried himself into the large pillow covering the side of the couch. There was no TV, so Stiles was in silence besides the noise of taxis and drunken neighbors. He fell asleep alone.  
  
  
Stiles woke quickly to the sound of banging on the door. It wasn’t uncommon for the door to get stuck, so someone would have to shoulder it in. His amber eyes widened when he saw Derek come into the house, hands full of flowers with teddy bears hanging from them and a large heart-shaped box of chocolates. Stiles’s mouth hung open, already calculating the numbers in his head of how much everything must’ve cost. “Derek Samuel Hale, what in the hell did you do!”  


“Aren’t you going to hug me first?” Derek asked calmly, with a smile laced onto his perfect face. Stiles rose from the couch and ran into his boyfriend’s arms, shoving his face into Derek’s neck and exhaling deeply. “Oh, Derek,” Stiles sighed. Derek lifted Stiles’s head to give him a welcoming kiss when he paused with a frown. “You’ve been crying.”  


“Huh?” Stiles questioned. Derek set the flowers and chocolates onto the ground and proceeded to caress Stiles’s face. “You’ve got tear tracks on your face. How come you’ve been crying?”  


Stiles ducked his head bashfully and played with the tips of his fingers. “Jus’ missed you's all.”  


“I love you,” Derek sighed, and brought their lips together finally. Stiles grabbed Derek’s face with love etched into it, finally being able to breathe for once that day. “And I love you.”  


Derek smiled and took Stiles’s hands, bringing them to the couch and sitting Stiles down. “I got you something—and before you say anything, we could afford this. Just one day out of the year,” he disclaimed.  


“That’s what you said on our anniversary,” Stiles snorted, which quickly turned into a sniffle. Derek shrugged, and turned around to pick the presents up from the ground. He sat on the other side of the couch and looked at Stiles with pure love in his eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” Stiles smiled and took the gifts. He looked over the white and red flowers that had the little bears on them, sniffing them and sighing with pleasure. “They smell wonderful.”  


“They’re fake, baby,” Derek laughed.  


“I know.” Stiles got up from the couch and went to the table where he hid the candy hearts. “I got you somethin’, too. It’s not as flashy, though,” Stiles began to chew on his lip in nervousness.  


“Hey, hey,” Derek took the hearts out of Stiles’s cold and frail hands, “Don’t worry, you know I love these.” He took one out that read: ‘BE MINE’. Derek placed half in between his bunny-like teeth and bit down, cracking it almost perfectly down the middle. “Be mine?” He asked Stiles.  


“You are so cheesy,” Stiles laughed and took the other half. Stiles didn’t particularly like candy hearts, but this one tasted like heaven. “Hey!” Stiles said suddenly with an offended look. “You didn’t notice my outfit!”  


Derek looked Stiles up and down at cat-whistled, causing Stiles to chuckle. “Stand up for me, baby.” Stiles’s hand was in Derek’s as they both stood and Derek spun him. He twirled slowly and sweetly, just for Derek. When he completed his 360 spin, he and Derek’s eyes reconnected. Stiles’s amber eyes turned dark and sultry. He grabbed Derek and walked him into their bedroom. It was cold, and not much was in there, but it was enough.  


Stiles fell on the bed, taking Derek with him as they kissed hard in the center of the sheets. Tongues clashed together, and grunts and moans were emitted into the air. Stiles fisted his hands into Derek’s hair as they rutted against each other. Derek let go, balanced one knee on the edge of the bed while quickly striping his clothes off in front of Stiles, who sat back and eyed him with interest. Stiles found himself losing patience and began to help Derek remove his clothes, starting with his pants. He unlooped Derek’s belt and popped the button open. Shoving his pants and briefs down, Stiles quickly took hold of Derek’s dick.  
  
He began pumping it and licking the tip periodically before taking it in his mouth. Derek was back to sitting on the bed, and Stiles was on his knees, slurping and swallowing around Derek. Derek usually groaned in bed, but some nights, Stiles had the sweet pleasure of hearing a little mewl or moan crack through. Tonight was one of those nights. Stiles hummed around Derek, using one hand to jack him off and the other to rub in-between his thighs.  


“Stiles, stop,” Derek breathed out, and Stiles immediately pulled back. Derek looked down and almost came at the sight of a string of spit connecting with Derek’s tip. Stiles wasn’t wearing underwear, and wetness dripped down his thighs; carriers produced slick—their own natural lubricant. Stiles was breathing heavily and climbed on top of Derek, kissing him and combining tastes of candy and pre-cum. The whispered “I love you’s” and dove at each other's necks and chests, leaving remnants of hickeys and love bites.  


They were both heaving for air, chests moving up and down rapidly. Sweat was collecting, causing their bodies to create a sweet friction. Derek knew the were moving too fast, but Stiles was never one to hold back during sex. Stiles lifted the night gown over his head, leaving behind a mess of hair. He took Derek's cock into his hands and blindly searched behind him to put it in his hole.  


"Stiles, baby, you need to slow–" he tried to finish the sentence, but Stiles licked his ear, causing a wave of sensation to wash over him. When Stiles found his his and slowly began to sink down onto Derek, Derek regained his common sense.  


"Stiles!" He shouted loudly.  


"What!" Stiles responded just as loud. It wasn't really a question.  


"Baby, I know you're excited but we don't have any condoms." Derek looked as if he'd told a small child that the annual circus had already left town.  


"We don't need one," Stiles whispered. "Derek," he press their noses together, "we don't need one, I'm not going to get pregnant. Just warn me quick enough before you cum."  


Derek knew it was a stupid idea—they both knew, really.  
But it was Valentine's Day.  


And Derek warned Stiles that he was going to cum.  


And Stiles warned Derek when he was going to cum.  


And the creepy guy next door probably heard it all, but they didn't care.  
  
  
Two weeks later, Stiles found himself staying home a lot. His stomach was hurting. It was always something different. Constipation, gas, vomiting, headaches, soreness. He wouldn't even let Derek kiss him goodbye, knowing that he was hanging around the house doing nothing while Derek was out working. Stiles groaned over the toilet as a wave of nausea crashed over him. He found himself calling out for Derek, even though no one was home. He ended up crying on the bathroom floor, getting up every five minutes to throw up. When his stomach finally cooperated, he knew he needed to get medicine. He felt bad doing it, but Derek told him that he could if it didn't get better. They'd be okay without that money.  


Stiles put on a coat and walked to the nearest corner store, looking for something simple, like ibuprofen or Advil. He found some gross stuff that he knew he'd throw back up if he tried to take. He only had ten dollars with him, and he was already getting dizzy again. He knew he looked stupid, standing at the same section of medicine for over ten minutes. The store manager was probably watching him with a bat behind the counter in case he stole. Stiles sighed and turned his head. There were several different assortments of pregnancy tests and even something that tried to guess the gender of your baby.  


No.  


Stiles knew he wasn't pregnant. There was no wa he could be. He and Derek had, had sex all the time without a condom. Why would this one be any different? Derek pulled out in time...didn't he? Stiles was stupid, sometimes, but Derek would never be so idiotic as to allow something like that to happen. He was thinking so rapidly, but when he shook himself out of his thoughts, he realized that he was already at the checkout counter.  


"That'll be $10.68," the sweet-sounding girl that probably shouldn't have be working in such a cruddy other store said. Stiles pulled out the crumpled bill with shaking hands. He didn't have sixty-eight cents. He didn't know why he picked up the most expensive one, but he looked at the girl. She clearly saw that he was low on cash and that he was a nervous wreck. He was about to turn and pick out a different brand pregnancy test. That would be the smart thing to do. Less accurate, but he would be able to get more than one. "Hey," the girl said. "It's only sixty-eight cents...I can help you out." Stiles was confused at first, but the girl reached into her pocket and pulled out the correct change. Tears welled into the boy's eyes, and he didn't know whether it was the dizziness or the stranger's kindness. "Thank you," he said quietly.  
It may have been his congested brain, but he could've sworn he heard a "congratulations" on the way out.

  
When he got home, it took him three times to puke before he peed on the stick. It took him just as long to look at the results.  


Positive.  


He began to shake, and he anxiously wrapped the stick up in toilet paper, leaving it on the sink counter. He was feeling okay, nausea-wise, and decided to sleep while he could. He knew he would wake up to hell, so he closed his eyes and dreamt of nothing while he had the chance.

  
He woke up to another wave of misery and ended up crying over the toilet again. He started to cry even harder when he looked at the rolled up item on the counter, reminding him of why he was sick in the first place. It was dark outside, but it was also winter, so Stiles wasn't really sure what time it was. His question was answered when he heard Derek pushing through the door again. The sound of equipment falling on the creaking floors indicated that Derek had, had a bad day.  


The light from the bathroom was the only thing lighting the darkened hallway, and Derek soon appeared in the doorway. He saw tears flowing down Stiles's face while Stiles quickly tried to wipe them, to no avail. "Baby," Derek sighed, and gathered Stiles in his arms while Stiles sobbed into his neck. "It's okay, you get better soon. Did you buy the medicine?"  


And, _of course_ Derek didn't know.  


Stiles stared at him with a runny nose and red-rimmed eyes. "No, I bought a pregnancy test," he said choking the last few words out that turned into heavy sobs.  
"Stiles..." Derek whispered. He turned to see what was wrapped up in the toilet paper, quickly unfolding it and gasping. "Stiles..."  


"I fucked up so badly, Derek. I'm sorry, Derek."  


"What are you sorry for, baby, you didn't do it alone." He gathered Stiles into his arms and heaved him up and into their bedroom. The sheets were thin in there, so Derek brought some of the throws from the living room and settled them over Stiles's body.  


"I'm sorry that I spent the money on a pregnancy test. I'm sorry that I got pregnant. I'm sorry I didn't listen. I'm sorry that I don't have a job and school isn't doing anything I thought it would. I'm sorry I'm a carrier."  


Derek stared at him deeply, and brought their lips together. Stiles immediately pushed him back and covered his mouth in embarrassment, "I've been throwing up all day!"  


"I don't care, Stiles. I don't care that you're any of those things, and you shouldn't be sorry for any of it." Derek's words were as sincere as the look in his eyes.  


"Derek, we can hardly afford living here ourselves, how could we bring a baby into it?!"  


"We'll figure it out, Stiles. There are options, a bunch of them."  


Stiles hesitated before breathing out, "I don't want to give it up, Derek..."  


Then we won't, he responded silently.  


"We'll figure out something."  


Derek was determined to hold Stiles that night, through his shakes and shivers and through the tears. 

They would figure everything out. Soon.  


Eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me all of your thoughts! Unfortunately, this isn't beta-read.  
> Please send me more prompts @Jewicer on Tumblr! I'm up for whatever.


End file.
